Of Soup and Smiles
by Drunken Boxer
Summary: Friendship fluff between Zack and Hodgins because I don't think the two of them get enough love. Zack isn't feeling well and it takes his best friend to make his day a little better.


A different take on 'The Man on the Fairway' in season 1. Takes place after Zack freezes during Goodman's first interrogation of the team. A bit of friendship fluff between Zack and Hodgins.

Disclaimer: If I owned Bones, it would only be about Zack and Hodgins.

* * *

Dr Jack Hodgins turned quickly from the table where Dr Goodman had been questioning Angela, Zack, and himself about their priorities regarding the plane crash and the three mysterious bones found, not because he was afraid of losing his job, but because he realized the entire interrogation would be easier on them all if their group separated _now_. Zack was looking especially pale and frazzled while Angela was still her collected self.

As Hodgins walked to his station, he heard Zack utter a quiet groan. Quite unlike Zack, who was usually silent regardless of the severity of the rebuke. Goodman's footsteps faded and Hodgins turned to face his best friend, who was sitting at the desk, his head buried in his hands.

"Hey, relax man. It's not like Goodman's going to fire you or anything," Hodgins said in an attempt to cheer up the up and coming forensic anthropologist.

Zack gave no indication that he heard Hodgins and continued to sit with his hands supporting his head, slowly massaging his temples. Hodgins approached the desk once more, now slightly concerned; it was unlike Zack to ignore him completely.

"Zack?"

The man in question sluggishly raised his head and made eye contact with Hodgins, but remained quiet. Hodgins frowned, taking in Zack's red-rimmed, unfocused gaze and the dull flush on his boyish cheeks. "You all right?" he asked, hoping that Zack would actually admit that he wasn't rather than brushing it off as was his habit.

"It's just a migraine," Zack murmured as he raised his right hand to rub distractedly at his forehead. "Most likely caused from stress, lack of sleep, and the fear of losing my job." His voice had lost its normal even tone and Hodgins could detect a trace of pain when he spoke.

Hodgins winced. He gently pulled Zack's hand – which was trembling almost imperceptibly – away from his head and cupped his face with his own palm. Zack was unnaturally warm, more than enough reason for him to go home and rest, not that he would ever accept the belief that his health was more important than the case. And if Hodgins needed any other clues as to how Zack was feeling, they were revealed as the man who would typically shy away from physical contact unconsciously leaned into his hand and released a small sigh. "Come on, I'll take you home, get you some meds, and you can sleep it off," Hodgins urged his friend and colleague. Zack merely closed his eyes and shook his head, a move that proved to be a mistake as the world tilted violently and he was forced to clutch at the table to steady himself.

"Hey guys. Are we working on Brennan's secret project again?" Angela had noticed the two gathered around the table and came over to see what they were up to now. When neither man answered her, she took a closer look at the scene and saw Hodgins' worried face and Zack's closed eyes.

"What's going on here?" she asked slowly.

"Nothing," Zack tried to articulate, but Hodgins talked over him, saying, "Z-man's got a migraine. I'm taking him home."

"I never agreed to that," Zack protested weakly.

"Sweetie, look at yourself. You're in no condition to work. You won't do yourself or the team any good until you get some rest and feel better," Angela consoled, as she did so well. Zack didn't reply; he was too busy fighting the queasiness that had swelled suddenly in his stomach. He wished the world would stop rocking. Angela, noticing his discomfort, rubbed his back soothingly and his breathing evened out.

"Perhaps," he said quietly, "you are both correct. I am in no fit state to continue working. My mental abilities are severely impaired and I am unable to offer the insight needed to identify these bones."

"Damn right you're not," Hodgins said in a firm voice. "Come on, Ange. Help me get him to my car and I'll drive him back."

Together they hoisted the lanky assistant to his feet and supported his body, which had stopped obeying him and was swaying slightly as he stood.

"When did it get so bright in here?" Zack asked, a bit dazedly, his typical loquacious speech impeded by the pounding in his head and rolling of his stomach.

"That's the migraine making your eyes more sensitive to light," Angela explained patiently as she and Hodgins half carried, half dragged the semi-aware man to the car.

After Zack had been safely belted into the passenger seat of the car, Hodgins turned to Angela. "Thanks Angela. I'll be back after I drop him off and get him all set up."

"No problem. I'll tell Brennan where you've both gone. I'm sure she'll understand." Hodgins gave her a fleeting smile, then slid into the driver seat, turned on the engine, and left the parking lot.

* * *

"Zack? Zack, we're at your apartment."

Zack's eyes fluttered open, but he showed no other signs of wanting to move. "No, I'm quite comfortable in your car, as long as it's not moving. Can you turn up the heat?" he asked, shivering a bit.

Hodgins exercised considerable self-control and refrained from rolling his eyes. "Let's go, your bed is much better than this car for sleeping." Zack mumbled incoherently but did not resist when Hodgins pulled him to his feet. The pair slowly made their way to the front door. Unwilling to reach into his friend's pocket, Hodgins asked, "Where are your keys?"

Zack fished them out of his pocket and handed them over, all with his eyes half-lidded, making him look even younger and more vulnerable than ever. They stumbled into the apartment and to Zack's bedroom. The bed was neatly made until Hodgins dumped Zack unceremoniously onto it. Zack immediately crawled under the covers, cocooning himself tightly against the chills caused by his mild temperature.

Hodgins smirked at the sight of his best friend curled on the bed, no more than a small lump in the middle. "Hey Zack, I'm going to run over to the main house and get you some meds, then I have to get back to the Jeffersonian. I'll be back when I get off."

Zack muttered something that was probably the equivalent of understanding and acceptance and closed his eyes.

It took Hodgins ten minutes to locate Tylenol and soon he was back in Zack's apartment, trying to prod the sick kid into taking his meds. "Zack!" he said, frustrated, "I have to get back to work. Just take the damn Tylenol!"

"Don't wanna!"

"You know, just because you're sick doesn't mean I'm not going to hurt you."

Zack's red eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"

Hodgins sighed. "You're right, of course I wouldn't. But take the meds, they'll make you feel better."

_For all of Zack's brilliance, he sure does regress to a kid when he's not feeling well_, Hodgins thought, rather amused. Finally, he was able to convince Zack to swallow the pills and drink some water.

"Good kid. Go to sleep. I'll be back in a few hours."

Zack nodded slightly, wrapping the blankets more closely to his body and drifting off to sleep again. Hodgins took one last look at his young colleague, his younger brother in every way except blood, patted his shoulder in comfort, and quietly left the apartment.

* * *

Four hours later, Hodgins returned to Zack's apartment. Letting himself in using the spare key he kept in the main house, his ears were greeted by the sound of retching. He hurried through the bedroom to the connected bathroom and saw his friend kneeling over the toilet bowl looking absolutely miserable. Once Zack was finished emptying the contents of his stomach, Hodgins helped him to his feet and led the trembling anthropologist back to bed, propping him into sitting position with pillows.

"How's the migraine?"

"As you can see, it is having a debilitating effect on my body," Zack replied dryly.

"Well, that sounds more like the Zack I know. You must be getting better." Hodgins sat down in the desk chair facing Zack. "I brought you some soup. You need something in your system to go with the meds. And if I'm not mistaken, you just lost everything that counts."

Zack pulled a face. "Did you make the soup? Because if you did, I would prefer not to have food poisoning on top of this headache and therefore much decline your offer."

"Ouch man, that hurt. And no, I picked up the soup on the way here." He handed Zack the styrofoam cup and a plastic spoon. "I hope it appeases your pickyness."

Zack rewarded Hodgins with a smile that finally reached his eyes and slowly ate the soup. The medicine combined with the soup and good company were gradually making his headache recede and roiling stomach calm.

Once the soup was finished, Hodgins took a closer look at Zack, noting that his eyes were no longer glazed over and the flush had almost disappeared from his cheeks. He reached out his arm and pressed his wrist gently against Zack's forehead. "Still a bit warm, but a lot better than earlier. How do you feel?"

"My head is still throbbing, though considerably less than before. And my stomach seems to have settled enough to digest the soup without problem."

"Good. Now what do you say we watch some _Firefly_? I know you have the DVDs around here somewhere."

Zack nodded eagerly, his face transforming into one of childish delight. He pulled the blankets off his bed and settled himself on the couch in the living room, trusting Hodgins to set everything up correctly. As excited as he was, the day's illness had still exhausted the young man, and soon Zack was sleeping soundly. Hodgins looked down at the lightly snoring Zackaroni nestled in blankets, head pillowed on his shoulder, and smiled.

* * *

I'm not entirely sure how well this piece turned out. I'm new to the series, this is my first Bones story, and I have no idea if anyone is even close to in character. Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this fluff.


End file.
